


nothing but illusions

by S_Hylor



Series: Bingo Round 1 2018 [12]
Category: Marvel Ultimates
Genre: Domestic, Family, Fluff, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 16:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15513846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_Hylor/pseuds/S_Hylor
Summary: Before he opens his eyes, Steve knows two things. The first is that he’s warmer than he’s felt in days, and the second is that he’s not alone.





	nothing but illusions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SirSapling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirSapling/gifts).



> Written for my Stony Bingo square "woke up in bed together" 
> 
> Thank you to quandong_crumble for the beta work.

Before he opens his eyes, Steve knows two things. The first is that he’s warmer than he’s felt in days, and the second is that he’s not alone. He can feel the presence of another body in the bed with him, hear someone else breathing; can tell by the way they’re moving that they’re already awake. When he rolls over onto his back he feels a hand ghost through his hair, then fingertips tracing the slope of his nose. Scrunching his face up, he’s not surprised by the thumb that sweeps across his forehead. 

“Shouldn’t frown, darling, it’s Christmas.” The man whispers, voice stroking across Steve’s skin and settling warmth into his bones. 

His voice has become familiar now, burns an ache in the pit of Steve’s stomach every time he hears it. Makes him want things that part of his mind tells him he shouldn’t. He always ignores those parts of his mind when the man is around. 

“Is it really? Thought it was only November.” He replies, feeling that ache again. It takes more courage to open his eyes than it takes to face off an enemy troop, but he manages to do it. 

The man is there, blue eyes alight, smiling softly at him, propped up on one elbow on the mattress next to him. He leans closer, pressing a kiss just above Steve’s left eyebrow. “Merry Christmas, darling.” 

“You too.” Steve whispers back, and now that his eyes are open he’s scared to even blink, in case the man disappears. 

Somewhere else in the house a door opens, followed by the sound of child’s attempt to be sneaky. 

“Here comes trouble.” The man mocks a groan, but his smile turns even more gentle and loving. “Guess that rules out a bit of Christmas spirit.” 

The last line is accompanied with a lascivious grin and waggle of eyebrows. Steve feels arousal swoop in his stomach that he quickly tries to squash down as the door to the bedroom is pushed open. 

Sleep tousled dark hair and blue eyes wide with wonder greet Steve when he pushes himself up on his elbows to survey the scene and spy the intruder. The boy stands there in the doorway, one hand on the door handle, the other towing a red and green sack behind him, nearly bursting at the seams with presents. The boy abandons the sack in the doorway and darts across the room when he sees them awake, clambering up on the bed and crawling up to the top. The man lifts the covers and allows the boy to wriggle into the space between them, cold toes and heels digging into Steve’s ribs and stomach until the boy gets settled. 

The boy tilts his head towards Steve, and not for the first time he’s struck by how much the boy looks like his father. Reaching out, the boy curls his hand around the collar of Steve’s undershirt, tugging at it until he tilts his head closer so the boy can whisper in his ear. 

“Santa visited. He left presents.” The boy whispers, too loud in his excitement. He turns to repeat the same to his father. 

“Oh did he now?” The man replies, feigning surprised. “You must have been a good boy this year then.” 

Instead of getting out of the bed to reclaim his presents, the boy twists until he has his feet pressed against Steve’s thigh, toes wriggling, and one hand reaching up to pet sleepily at his father’s beard. His other hand still clings to Steve’s shirt even as his eyes slip closed again. 

Over the top of the boy’s head, the man smiles at Steve, eyes soft and bright. “Do you ever get the feeling that something is coming between us, darling?” 

Steve means to reply, he starts to, reaching out towards the man, wanting to pull both him and the boy close to him, when the bed beneath him turns hard and cold and he’s reaching into empty space. 

Instead of the warmth of the room and the sound of the boy’s sleepy breathing, Steve is surrounded by the wind pushing snow into the makeshift camp under the shelter of a rock ledge, and the distant rumble of tracks that he can both feel and hear of the approaching German tanks. 

He pushes the last fragments of the dream away, feeling it ache in his chest, throwing his blanket off and standing up, just as Bucky comes slinking back into the shelter from his turn on watch.

“Incoming—” Bucky starts to report, voice low, but everyone has already started moving.

He tries not to think about the parts of him that are missing, the ache in his chest where the man and the boy reside.

The family he dreams about but knows he’ll never have. 

“Come on men, time to move out.” Steve calls out, already shouldering his pack, picking up the shield and making sure his mask is properly in place. “What are you waiting for? Christmas?” 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a universe where not everyone has a soulmate, but those that do dream of the future they could have with their soulmate, long before they meet them.


End file.
